


years

by toqueso



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: AU?, F/M, just wish fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8276944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toqueso/pseuds/toqueso
Summary: Fifty years isn't a long time when he's with her.





	

**year 0**

It’s a small photograph and it's the care with which it has been pressed into the glass frame makes him take notice. The fluorescent lights of the Public Safety Bureau office cast a glare, but he can still see what’s inside clearly: a woman in the foreground has a face creased with wrinkles, her smile as toothy as the younger girl wrapped in her arms. “Your grandmother, Inspector?” He asks.

Inspector Tsunemori looks up from frowning at her tablet. “Ah, yes.” She reaches her hand out quickly in order to stroke the edges of the frame. “Professor Saiga really was spot on, you know.” Her lips curl upwards, briefly. “I am a grandmother’s girl.”

“Hm.” Shinya nods. His eyes linger on the photo for a second more, then switch to the file in his hands. “About this case, I’ve noticed…”

Is that what she’ll look like in fifty years, he wonders. And then—

I won’t be around to see it.

 

**year 4**

In the guerilla camp, Shinya is about to tell her to get some rest when Tsunemori speaks. “Even when you weren’t there, I still imagined you giving me advice.”

Shinya exhales and watches the smoke from the Spinel curl lazily in the air. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Probably was no good, the advice.”

“Of course it was good advice,” she says. Her eyebrows furrow and her mouth gets a little pinched at the side.

Shinya fights the urge to reach over the table and touch her face. He raises the cigarette to his lips again to quiet himself.

“When my grandma died…” she continues. “When she died, I relied on your words.”

This time, Shinya has to fight harder to stop himself from reaching out. He lowers his hands to his lap, where his fingers curl around air. “I’m sorry to hear about her,” he says, and means it. “I know you were close.”

Not that his words matter. He’s years too late and one promise broken already to mean anything to her. He opens his mouth, to try again and tell her to go to sleep, Shamballa Float awaits her—

“You remembered, Kougami-san.” She smiles now, and Shinya’s fingers ache a little at the lost opportunity.

There are all sorts of things he could say, like of course I wouldn’t forget, or I would never forget anything about you, or…

“Hm,” he says. And then: “We should get some rest.”

What he means: no matter how many years pass, I won’t forget anything about you.

 

**year 9**

He’s in what used to be part of the European Union when Tsunemori surprises him—which, in itself, is not a surprise. One second he’s crouching near a ruin of a house and reloading his rifle, the next second he’s blocking a flurry of attacks.

“What’s the rush,” he pants. Despite himself, he’s grinning. Damn it.

She doesn’t respond and only narrows her gaze. She throws a punch with her right hand that he weaves around, only to nearly trip as she drops to the floor and sweeps her leg at him. He jumps back to avoid it, and she takes advantage of his airborne vulnerability to launch herself at him and send them tumbling across the dirt. He tries to use his weight to pin her down, but she slips right out underneath him and wrenches his arm across his back, sitting on his back.

“You’re under arrest, Kougami-san,” she huffs.

“Aren’t you a little too high-ranking to be doing this kind of dirty work?” He quips.

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing freedom fighter?” She shoots back.

Playing freedom fighter, huh? Well, she always did know how to aim where it hurt the most. “Sorry, but this isn’t a game,” he says.

The switchblade he has concealed in his palm springs to life, and he slashes vaguely in her direction. She shifts her weight enough to allow him to throw her off, and he hops to his feet to face her. Of course, she’s already recovered, knees and one hand on the ground, ready to dash at him.

“Are you sure you’re not the one playing, Inspector?” He asks. “If this were real to you, you would have already pointed your Dominator at me.”

“Don’t call me that. I know what my job requires more than anyone,” she snaps back. He doesn’t doubt it. He’s never doubted her since the first time she shot him, all those years ago.

“Yeah? Only, this is the third time we’ve met like this since Shamballa Float. I’m starting to think that you don’t really care to catch me after all—“

“You know that’s not true, Kougami-san.” She’s furious. She’s lovely. “Now, please surrender.”

He shakes his head and slowly moves his left hand towards his back pants pocket. There’s a flash grenade in there, and since it didn’t go off when he rolled on it, it must still be good to go. “Sorry, Inspector.” He doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in her eyes when he calls her that. He imagines it must mirror the hurt in his.

“Kougami-san, please.” In a sudden move, she shows him the Dominator holstered at her side, then takes it out and throws it behind her. It hits the walls of the ruin and skitters off. He’s confronted with the full weight of her gaze, now. “We’re fighting for the same thing.”

“Oh?”

“You want a world of justice, the same as I do. A world where we can fairly judge those who have committed crimes.” She softens. “A world where we can be ordinary people.”

He tries to ignore the ache in his chest at her words. By the soft smile she sends him, he doesn’t succeed. “I can’t help you, Tsunemori. You know that.”

Now, her expression turns into something more determined, fiercer. The ache in his chest deepens. “Not from the inside, you can’t. Kougami-san, fight with me.”

He’s intrigued—oh, hell. He leans into the thought of the idea, he loves it. Being able to fight for something that he truly believes in? By her side? He grits his teeth. And how many years has he stolen from her? How many years has she wasted, chasing after him? He’s not worth wasting her career on.

She watches him calmly, not even making a motion towards her Dominator. Maybe she can see right through him.

“I can’t. I—I have to go,” he forces out.

“Okay, Kougami-san,” she says.

“You’re going to let me go, just like that?” It’s a rare person who can leave him off-balance, but of course, Tsunemori can do it.

“No.” She shakes her head, and her bob flutters in the wind. Shinya wishes he didn’t notice. “But I can always catch you again. Think about what I said, okay?”

He flees in response, but the sound of her voice haunts him.

 

**year 13**

He finds her on the balcony of what used to be the Nona Tower, gripping the steel railing in one hand and a Spinel cigarette in the other. “This what you were hoping for?” He asks.

“It’s a start,” she says. She nods towards the skyline, with buildings still hosting mental care advertisements. “But we’ve taken the first step.”

He leans against the frame of the sliding glass door and watches her slender frame. Her blazer and skirt ripple in the wind, but she doesn’t shiver.

When they were in the thick of the fighting, only a few months ago, he had thought that he would give anything to see her live—including his life. Now that he knows the same is true for her, he’s started to change his mind. He would give almost anything for them to live together. It hadn’t been a smooth transition in the way he thought, but rather her bashing the idea into his head at any given opportunity. He chuffs quietly, unseen, at the memories.

“A world without Sybil, huh?” He thinks again of the past four years, all those who suffered and bled and died for the quietest change. In this city, there is nobody besides their team that knows just how much they have sacrificed. “Didn’t think I would live to see it.”

“What are you saying, Shinya-san?” Her voice sharpens.

“Just joking, Akane,” he laughs quietly. “I’m an old man, you know.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He looks at her. No matter how much they lost, she was always there. She moves back from the railing to grasp his hand in hers. “We still have many years left.”

 

**year 14**

“She would have liked you, you know.”

He turns to face her, still on his knees in front of the grave. “Really,” he says. “She would’ve liked me.”

Akane laughs. “Of course she would have.”

“Your grandmother liked criminals?”

Akane sighs in that particular, almost-condescending way of hers. Shinya tenses a bit, ready for the impending lecture. “That’s not what I meant, Shinya-san.” She focuses the entirety of her gaze on him.

“She would’ve liked you, because I like you.”

“Only like?”

She laughs again at that and leans into his side. “Because I love you, Shinya-san.” She pauses, and then smacks his side. “And you’re not a criminal!”

“Agh!”

She ignores his (semi-fake) grunt of pain and rises to her feet. She gives him her hand. “Come on, Shinya-san. We’re meeting Ginoza-san soon, and we don’t want to be late.”

“I’m coming,” he says. He takes her hand and gets up, dusts himself off.

Akane is already starting to trot off when he takes a second to look back at the grave. “She’ll be happy,” he promises, then runs up to catch up with his fiancée.

 

**year ??**

“You look like your grandmother, you know.”

Akane turns to face him. “What?”

“Your grandmother,” he repeats. “Same smile.”

She snorts at him. “You never met her, Shinya.”

“You look the same,” he says, “I know it.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Well then, since you know so much, maybe you can tell me why our granddaughter is trying to eat mud.”

Shinya laughs. “She’s inquisitive. As can be expected from the grandchild of detectives.”

Akane giggles too, and Shinya takes the chance to nestle her head against his shoulder. He folds their hands together, both wrinkled and liver-spotted.

Had it already been fifty years? It didn't seem long enough, somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know shinkane makes me cry a lot


End file.
